


How the Cracks Grow

by Aylwyyn228



Series: All our broken pieces [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Protective Steve Rogers, Seizures, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 10:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18618988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aylwyyn228/pseuds/Aylwyyn228
Summary: It was the thud that woke him up.That, and the lack of Bucky’s presence at his side.Goddamn it.It'd been a good day. He'd thought maybe they'd be spared this tonight.Mini prequel to Stress Lines





	How the Cracks Grow

It was the thud that woke him up.

That, and the lack of Bucky’s presence at his side.

Goddamn it.

It'd been a good day. He'd thought maybe they'd be spared this tonight.

He was already up, pulling on some sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Bucky could wake up thinking it was any point between the 30s and now. He didn't know if Bucky was sleep walking or hallucinating or having a flashback, but he hadn't found out how to snap him out of it, beyond just riding it out with him.

Still, at least it was getting less common. Usually only after a particularly stressful day.

He made his way towards Bucky's room, with a fair bit of trepidation. Bucky kept the room for the days when he was oversensitive, when his skin felt like it was peeling off with every touch.

He hadn’t used it in over a month, but he must have sneaked out of bed without waking Steve.

He hoped Bucky hadn’t been suffering for too long without him.

It was strange, but the full Winter Soldier nights were the least distressing, for Steve at least.

Bucky was just blank, and it was terrifying when the little voice at the back of Steve's head started questioning whether he'd ever come back, but he tended to just want orders. Steve could generally just tell him to go back to sleep or to come and sit with him until Bucky flicked back into awareness.

The other Hydra days were bad… the ones where he didn't recognise Steve, but he was convinced he was going to be punished or tortured or experimented on… the ones where he pleaded.

But for Steve, the absolute worst nights were the ones where Bucky thought it was the 30s, that they were in their tenement. He would have his friend back, his lover, perfect and untouched, and then he would have to watch the dawning realisation that something was very, very wrong.

It was godawful.

He knocked on the door, on the off-chance that Bucky had just pushed something off the table in his sleep or something.

There was no response.

He sighed, pushed the door open. "Bucky?"

The light from the landing cast an illuminated stream across the rumpled bed, but Bucky wasn't on it.

He pushed the door a little further open, let a little bit more light in, but he still couldn't see any sign of him.

"Bucky?"

It was then that he spotted him, just the edge of his feet, behind the side of the dresser.

Steve stepped cautiously into the room. "Buck, I'm coming over, OK?"

There wasn't a response. So he kept his movements slow and unthreatening.

As he got further into the room, he could see that Bucky had pulled his knees up to his chest, had buried his face behind his hands.

"Bucky?" Steve knelt gently in front of him, reached out to just brush across his arm. He thought his heart might actually have shattered as Bucky flinched away. "It's just me, Buck."

Bucky went instantly still, like he was processing, like he was letting it filter through. Ever so slowly, like it might be a trap or a trick, he lifted his head.

There was a long pause and then Bucky's face split into a wondering grin. "Stevie?"

For a second, Steve could've been back in Austria, back at the Hydra base, finding Bucky for the first time. He blinked back the tears.

"Yeah, Buck. It's me."

Bucky was frowning, ever so slightly. "But you're…" He reached out, to brush across Steve's face as Steve kept himself very, very still. "Are you here?"

He couldn't help himself, he caught Bucky's hand, pressed it to his lips. "Yes, yeah, I'm here. I promise."

That seemed to be enough for Bucky, he was nodding feverishly. "We have to go, Stevie. We have to get out now."

He was already trying to push himself to his feet, to drag at Steve's shoulder.

"They won't... Oh God, Steve... We've got to go." He stopped all of a sudden, staring directly over Steve's shoulder. Steve wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"Buck? Bucky?"

Bucky finally met his eyes again. Steve heard him swallow with an audible click. He sat back down, fisting his hands into Steve's shirt. "They've done something to me, Stevie. They've done something. I see things... I… we've gotta go."

"It's alright, Buck. You got out. I found you. We're safe."

Bucky just stared at him. "You… came for me?"

Steve seriously thought he might just burst into tears. "Yeah, pal. I got you."

Bucky broke into another grin. "I knew you would." He ducked his head, pressed his face into Steve's t-shirt. "They said you were dead, but I knew it weren't true. I knew you'd come."

"It's alright," Steve heard himself say.

Bucky lifted his head. "We've gotta go, Stevie. I don't know the way. They kept me blindfolded. How'd you get in?"

Steve just shook his head, wondered just how many times he was gonna have to have this conversation tonight. "We got out, Buck. We're safe."

"We're safe?"

"Yeah, come on. Let me show you."

Bucky let himself be pulled to his feet, but he didn't step away, just kept clinging to Steve's arm, his metal fist stretching out the back of his shirt. It was slow going.

But once they stepped out into the corridor, Bucky's eyes went wide.

"I don't remember getting here." He stopped stock still. "I don't remember." His hands were shaking. "Why don't I remember?"

"You will, pal. I promise. Just come sit down, OK? I'll make you some coffee."

"Coffee?" Bucky said it like the word meant nothing.

"Yeah, got a machine for it these days. It's much better than the stuff Dugan used to make. Come on."

Bucky came easily enough. At least, this was one of the nights where he recognised Steve and trusted him.

Steve deposited him on one of the kitchen chairs. He kept up a steady stream of noise, trying to flick Bucky back into the present, while he busied himself making coffee.

"Steve?" Bucky cut off one of his old, old stories, staring intensely at him across the table. "I'm not… right, Stevie. I can't-"

He trailed off. Steve put the coffee in front of him and took his seat. There was no point trying to reassure him, or lie. Bucky wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong. It didn't make sense and he was lucid enough to know it.

So Steve always tried to act as normally as possible. As if what Bucky was experiencing was true. Because it was, to him.

He didn't know if that was the right thing to do or not. "You said you saw things?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, they gave me something. And then... I saw things. Things that couldn't be real. And I... I would be somewhere else and I wouldn't remember. It wouldn't make sense. Guards would come in and talk like they knew me, but I wouldn't ever remember them." He has grabbed a hold of the coffee mug like it's an anchor, holding him to reality. "You might not be real and I wouldn't know, Stevie. I wouldn't even realise. There's something wrong with me. I'm not right."

He trailed off, staring Steve out.

"Don't let them take me again, Steve. Don't let them take me to the nut house. I know I'm not..."

"Hey," Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and squeezed. “No one's taking you anywhere, OK? You're fine, we'll figure it out."

Bucky nodded, but it was tight and forced.

"You seeing something now?"

He nodded again.

"What?" Steve was trying really hard to keep his voice light, but he had no idea if this was normal. If Bucky was having flashbacks to a time he was having drug induced hallucinations, then maybe it was entirely normal that he thought he was seeing things…

Or maybe this was new. Some new crisis. More brain damage maybe. Some new psychosis.

"It's like...  Crystals."

And suddenly everything fell into place.

Sam had explained that it happened with some people. It was Bucky’s brain giving him a warning. Sam had taught Bucky how to recognise it.

It was just that trapped in the flashback, Bucky couldn’t remember that was what it was.

Relief washed over Steve, which he tried very hard not to show.

"OK, pal." He stood up and shimmied round the table, gently pulling the mug out of his grasp. "It'll be alright, I promise." Bucky looked up at him with a worrying amount of trust.

And then it hit.

Bucky went suddenly limp and Steve had to wrap his arms around his shoulders to keep him from sliding right off the chair. His head had lolled back and there was a muscle twitching rhythmically in his jaw.

"It's a seizure, Buck. That's all. You've had em before, alright? Couple of minutes and it'll be over."

Steve's only knowledge of seizures had been people dropping to the floor and shaking, and that never happened to Bucky.

He'd sound confused sometimes. Sometimes it'd be like he'd fainted. And sometimes it was like this.

Steve had no idea what to do. Hadn’t dared ask anyone.

Just held Bucky through them, and after, when just the fear was left.

It was only that Sam had happened to witness it, and made the suggestion.

He’d of course laid into Steve about not saying anything, and Steve could concede that he maybe had a point there, but there was no way he could explain to Sam the dread that settled into his stomach at the thought letting anyone else into their safe haven.

He wasn’t sure he understood it himself.

And he certainly wasn’t going to force Bucky to do anything. Let alone see a doctor who might...

Still, at least it explained something about tonight. Though whether the flashbacks caused the seizures, or the seizures caused the flashbacks, Steve guessed they'd never know.

The muscle in Bucky's jaw stopped moving. Steve tightened his grip. "There you go. Almost over."

They stayed like that for another few seconds, then Bucky pushed himself up and rubbed a hand over his face.

Steve stayed hovering. He knew contact sometimes helped. "You know where you are now?"

"Yeah." Bucky swallowed thickly. "Sorry."

"No, don't apologise. None of this is your fault."

Bucky shook his head, reached a shaky hand out to his coffee and took a quick slug, like it was a shot. He reached up to clasp Steve's hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't have to keep doing this."

Steve squeezed his shoulder. "I want to. And I'm fine. It's not too bad."

Bucky shook his head again. Gave a small laugh. "You got a real bad poker face, punk." He gave a shaky sigh. "What I said… about… That bit was true. I didn't want to see anyone, cos I was worried if I started talking they'd realise just how fucked up I am. They'd say I was too… damaged. Too dangerous. I thought they'd lock me up."

Steve's heart tightened. He pulled Bucky back into a hug, rested his chin in his hair. "I meant what I said too, bud. No one's ever gonna take you."

Because when he thought about it, maybe that was why he hadn't fought Bucky too hard on seeing a doctor. Maybe that thought had entered his head too, and asylums and nut houses and hospitals had been haunting his thoughts too.

Because they might not understand.

Bucky wasn't crazy. God knew, Steve didn't think he'd have made it through all that Bucky had. And he sure as shit wasn't dangerous. Ever since he'd broken his programming, he had never once raised a hand to Steve, not even in the grips of the most godawful nightmares.

But Steve couldn't trust anyone else.

Every single person who'd ever been in charge of the two of them, who'd been responsible for them, had lied to and exploited them. They'd both died for it. They'd both fought for people who had turned out to be no better than the people they were killing for them.

So no, Steve couldn't put his trust in authority, in doctors or scientists or politicians.

He trusted Bucky, and he loved him.  

And he would save him.

No matter what.

Together they'd work it out.

They didn’t need anyone else.

"I mean it." Steve didn't even stop to think as he pressed a kiss to the top of Bucky's head, burying his nose in his hair. "No one's ever gonna take you away again."

 


End file.
